Out of Closet
by M.D. Off-Red
Summary: The last thing Alfred expected to find Arthur in the world was the supposedly prim and sober Brit in a closet, wearing skirt and heels. Cosplaying as hobby is one thing, but cross-dressing? WTF? USxUK M-rated for saucy contents


A/N: Let's just say this fic is my way of releasing my love for cosplaying and cross-dressing. Which doesn't really matter if I cross-dresses, because I'm a girl. But I don't know about a cross-dressing guy, I saw two at the last anime-con I went. Ugh. But anyway, cross-dressing in yaoi is what I find one of the hottest (and yet creepiest) thing I've ever seen. This fic is saucy and graphic. Be warned. Oh, and America being an innocent teenager who have no idea what he will be up for. ;3

**Summary**: The last thing Alfred expected to find Arthur in the world was the supposedly prim and sober Brit in a closet, wearing skirt and heels. Cosplaying as hobby is one thing, but cross-dressing? WTF? USxUK M-rated for saucy contents

**Warnings**: Language, M-rated for saucy contents, cross-dressings, and fetishes.

**Out of Closet**

Alfred knew more than two or three weird things his people loved to do.

And he was not one to complain about that since they have rights to do what they wanted (hey, he was a free country after all). But sometimes he wondered why some people liked BDSM play, while the other liked underage kids (which was a crime), and many of them preferred one-night stands to real relationships. He had seen them, pondered about it and still he had no clue what drove them to do that. And he was supposed to be half-human too, for God's sake. And yet, by far, he had never had the urge to do… unique things such as that--and that aside, the only abnormal fixation he had was the McDonald, but it was still considered normal. Right?

And yet he still wondered why people had those strange 'hobbies'. Why did they do that anyway? He knew humans could be very creative sometimes, but he could never understand the things they called 'fetishes'. Someone who looked so ordinary may have psychopathic mentality and pedophilia tendencies, and an ordinary housewife and her husband might really into dominant and submissive plays. Even after he heard all of that, he couldn't really picture himself in their shoes, much less other people he knew secretly doing those sort of activities.

Until the day he discovered a certain grouchy nation's not-so-innocent secret.

"Hey, do you think England's gay?"

It started by Spain's typically harmless question one afternoon after the meeting ended. That particular day, for some reasons, none of the nations had left the room yet, and coincidentally only England had left the meeting room a while ago due to some sort of emergency call from his superior. And that one possibly random question had strangely absorbed the attentions of the rest of the room, including Alfred's.

"What make you say that?" Austria had asked with a fine brow raised elegantly.

Spain shrugged. "Why not? Remember what his hobbies are? Cooking and baking even though he can't cook and even when he's a guy?" He stated matter-of-factly.

"He also loves knitting and crocheting. And he does an excellent job at that." France suddenly added, taking a seat next to his best friend.

"Now that you mention it… that does sound girly. Liet loves knitting too." Even Swiss had taken an interest in the topic, which was odd, because he usually so aloof and disagreeable towards such discussions.

"And his eyebrows are so thick, it's almost gay. I bet he's really gay!" Prussia had decided it was the right moment to throw his comment.

"Brother, don't say that. I don't think it's true. England is a prim, respectable man with good mannerism. I'm sure it's just a misunderstanding." Germany reasoned.

Prussia rolled his eyes. "Ludwig, _real_ men don't need to be proper, we're guys! We play in dirt and mess up the house all the time, we don't need gentlemanly mannerism like that eyebrows does. Well, it's fine for you to like cooking and cleaning and stuff, but hey, that's just 'coz you're the awesome me's little brother and 'coz you look nothing gay. It's totally fine for you! But the eyebrows? Pfft. He's definitely gay."

"…but that doesn't make sense." Germany furrowed his eyebrows but didn't push the matter further, he knew whatever he said wouldn't change Prussia's self-righteous comments.

"Plus, he is as sensitive as a PMS-ing girl, da? He screams like one too." Russia joined in the conversation, smiling all the while.

"Yeah. I mean, what kind of guy goes on screaming just because we tell him the truth that his cooking sucks?" America couldn't help but to comment as well, feeling a victim to England's constant anger outbursts.

"Hm. You're right. And he actually believes unicorns and fairies exist. How much gay a guy can get?" Spain pointed out loud.

"The bastard's too creepy." Romano scoffed.

"He likes creepy porn too."

"Only in his country people have sex in weird ways."

"I bet he's into toys."

"And maybe costumes?"

"BDSM? Or role plays?"

"Doesn't he like kids too?"

"…I think he's into kinky stuff."

And the discussion went on with nations giving their own version of opinions and theories. It escalated to full-blown gossip talk when Hungary joined in. America seriously didn't know why, but he was a bit shocked when Hungary started telling them about the results of her investigation--why did she investigate England anyway?--and about the facts that England often went to a certain kinky shop down the road and he was a regular there. She even went as far as to ask the shop's owner just to get the facts right.

"After I persuaded him, the owner finally spilled the beans. I heard that England bought a pair of leather pants and whips in his last visit." The Hungarian girl said joyfully, while reading some papers in her hand. "Oh! And the owner said he often buys some sex toys like vibrator for example.

"So, he's into BDSM?" Prussia rubbed his chin in thought. "Ha! Told ya he's into that!"

"But last week, England bought a pair of leather boots with heels and a French maid costume set. I wonder if he really wears them himself or maybe it's for a female partner?" Hungary wondered, she seemed very disappointed at her own theory though.

"Tres bien! I am pleased to hear Angleterre is fond of our product! And he used to always deny it, now I have something to say to him the next time we met." France suddenly clapped his hands, an evil smirk formed on his lips. One that made Feliciano jumped to Germany's side, clinging to his arm with teary eyes.

"Umm…" Canada had been blushing rather heavily. He wanted to say something, but he couldn't seem to voice it out.

"There's no way he's straight!" Prussia interrupted. "I bet he's wearing them himself!"

"Brother! Don't be rude!" Germany warned him.

"Relax, Ludwy. It's just a theory!"

"Yes, that's right. All of this is just a theory." Hungary suddenly stood up, a determined look on her face. "This discussion is without any actual evidence. Is England, one of our comrades, really homosexual? We cannot be sure. And without evidence, further discussion of this topic is pointless. The only thing we should do to prove our theories, is by having a real live witness. I suggest we should send someone to investigate this matter personally to the subject and hopefully, even catch him red-handed in the act." Hungary proudly declared.

All nations turned their eyes at the said girl. No one voiced an objection. And although several had a reluctant look on their faces, it seemed curiosity had a bigger influence to their silence. Hungary smiled when she saw no rejection from the nations.

"Alright. We will decide on who we should send--no, France, England will only kick you out of his house the moment he sees you--and we should decide on someone who is particularly close to him. Someone he trusts enough to get into his house, or better yet, someone who knows his way around the house so he can break in without him noticing, in order to catch him in the act. He or she will have to be used to the area around England's house as well. Someone we can trust to get inside easily. Anyone have any idea who?"

And almost immediately, all eyes and heads turned towards _his_ direction. Towards the personification of the United States of America. Every single one of the nation lingered in the room stared at him.

"…me?" America choked out, his brain finally catching on.

More than half of them nodded. Hungary smiled in satisfaction, hands in akimbo. "So it's decided then. America, you will do further investigation for this matter." She declared.

"But I--"

But Hungary didn't accept objections. "Now, we have to orchestrate the perfect plan to help America. I hope for your cooperations for this mission, everyone!"

_Mission? When does this becomes a mission?_ America didn't understand where the flow of the discussion had gone off to. He thought this was supposed to be just an ordinary discussion everyone would forget by tomorrow. And yet it had escalated this much.

"First, we have to get a detailed map of England's house. Can you do that, America?" Hungary turned to him.

Alfred raised an eyebrow. "I… guess. But--"

"Great! After that, we will have him get inside the house unnoticed. Oh, and we can't afford to have him break in with evidence. And we can't just bust the door. Damn. Maybe we should get a duplicate key to his house." Hungary resumed ignoring the American's objection and had actually started writing notes on the plan.

"How about we send America to his house first, then he will unlock a window so he can get in later?" Russia suggested with a smile creepier than the usual.

"But what if England-san is not in the house?" Japan raised a question, seemingly interested in the plan as well.

"That's fine. America can just sneak into his bedroom and retrieve the solid evidence from the closet or wherever he hides them." Hungary thoughtfully said. "I like Russia's idea as well. We don't have to go as far as making a duplicate key. If we start the operation at noon, no one will care for one harmless window being opened, will they?" The girl scribbled something in her pink notebook. "America! Can you do that?"

"Err… sure?" America responded timidly, he already got the point that Hungary would _absolutely_ make him do it. Maybe even resorting to violence if the American fought hard enough. And Hungary was infamous of… her persuasiveness, in military and psychological means.

"Good. Now for the tools America should bring along with him… I think a camera and some lock-picking tools will suffice?"

And somehow the 'meeting' lasted for three hours.

And the next day, Hungary had seen to it that America wouldn't run away from his so-called mission. Early in the morning, Hungary and Japan had shown up by his door, shoving to him a bag filled with things he didn't know what was. Until Japan kindly explained to him the functions of each of the tools inside the bag, and as he expected, they were spying tools made by Japan's advanced technology. Things like a mini-camera disguised in a ring, lock-picking tools, even a diamond cutter used for cutting clean holes on glass windows.

"I especially gathered them for today, America-san." Japan told him enthusiastically, despite the obvious unwilling look on the American's face. "I hope they will be of great use to you."

And he only knew then he could not escape his fate.

So there he was, standing by Arthur's door by lunch time, with the bag of tools hanging on his shoulder. According to the plan, he would go inside the house, pretending he needed to borrow England's restroom while in fact, he would secretly unlock a window so he could get inside again when Arthur was unaware of it and Alfred could catch him in the act of using one of his… toys. Alfred gulped nervously. What if he walked in on Arthur doing… stuff? The young nation wasn't sure if he wanted to be scarred for life after what he had seen just what kind of things his former brother did in his private times.

But then again… Hungary would have his head if he stopped now.

Then Alfred brought up a trembly index finger and pressed the door bell button. He clenched his eyes shut and prayed hard.

A second passed. Two seconds. Three seconds.

After more than a minute passed, there was no reaction whatsoever.

America cocked an eyebrow. Could it be England wasn't home? He tried ringing the door a second time and waited for another minute. And still no reaction. He thought for a while, before deciding England really wasn't inside. He must go with the plan B, when Arthur was not in the house, he would go and pick the lock, then he would sneak in and go upstairs to the Brit's room and look for any kind of thing that would prove to his sexuality, or fetish preference, as France had suggested. Alfred then went around the house to the backdoor.

He put down the bag as soon as he got there, fishing out the lock-picking tools before resuming to grab at the door knob. And much to his surprise and more confusion, he door was unlocked.

The moment he accidentally turned the knob, the white door immediately swung inwardly, revealing a beautiful British-style kitchen. America raised an eyebrow, wondering if England had forgotten to lock the backdoor, but thankful of his luck nevertheless. He put the tools into the bag and zipped it, then resumed tip-toeing into the house, closing the door behind him. The house was as silent as grave. America almost jumped when a clattering noise reached his ears, but sighed in relief when he heard a cat mewled.

He tried to calm down his racing heat beat, meanwhile ascending the stairs in a careful, slow pace. He was relieved when he immediately spotted England's bedroom right after he had reached the second floor. Then without further ado, he entered the room, looking back and forth around the impeccably clean and beautifully arranged room. His eyes wept the floors, but found nothing.

Placing the bag down, America crouched to see beneath the double bed. Nothing. And the only creepy thing he spotted there, was not a single speck of dust existed underneath the bed. England even went to clean it spotless? Now America began to doubt his former mentor's sexuality too.

Finding nothing, he got up and decided to check the bedside table drawers. There were only a carton of cigarettes, a lighter, a pen, and a notepad, nothing odd. The American slid the drawers closed, spotting the closet at the other side of the room. He went there, gulping while grabbing the knob. Then he slid it opened.

Clothes, dress shirts, trousers and suits immediately entered his line of vision. There were folded clothes at the upper part of the closet. America's eyes strayed down and he crouched, sweeping aside the hanging clothes to take a better look. And he spotted something. A square box was hidden within a deeper part of the tiny closet, previously concealed by the curtain of clothes.

America was reluctant when he pulled that box out of the closet so he could see better. There was no lid. And he held his breath as he took in the sight of black leather whips that lied on the topmost of a pile of other things he had yet to know.

_Whips_. He mused, his heart began thumping at the sight of it. _Just like what Hungary said._

He felt a bit scared to find out more, but there was curiosity as well, for he had never have interest in such thing, being a young nation. But the sight of the leather whip had caused a sudden urge to see just the other things England had in the house. He took the whips and placed it onto the carpeted floor, plunging his hand inside the box.

And he grabbed something hard and solid, but small enough to fit his palm. He pulled it and a rather small, egg-shaped thing connected to a small square box via wire. America stared with wide eyes as the egg-like thing dangled in the air, there was a small button on the box. He pressed it, and the small egg started to vibrate softly in his palm. And the more Alfred pushed it, the more intense it vibrated.

_So this is how vibrator looks like._ Alfred gulped nervously. He turned it off and placed it nearby the leather whips. Now he felt more curious than ever, his hand went in and dug out a pair of black leather shorts and a very smallish, matching leather vest that went as far as right beneath the chest. How could anyone possibly wear this kind of thing? The American wondered, imagining Arthur wearing them.

In his mind Arthur was wearing the tight leather shorts, showing off the milky white skin of his slightly muscular but slim thighs. And the short tight leather vest that clearly displayed his delicious skin and the beautifully crafted shape of his lean torso toned in a bit of muscles, and with the vest teasingly showed Alfred two dusky, puckered nipples every once in a while. And---and some matching leather gloves would be nice. The way they were in contrast with Arthur's pale skin really sent chills down his spines. And the whips worked too, and if Arthur wore a London police hat… he would be a sexy little punishing devil. And in bed, he would crawl up Alfred's body like a cat in heat with that lustful, seductive look on his face--

Alfred shook his head and tried to focus. He suddenly felt his pants tightened and clamped on him so painfully. He found himself feeling hot and sweaty and breathless. Damn it. The imagination was too powerful that it went straight to his loins. He got to do something to handle it real quick, or imagine something so awful it would shrink down.

_Dammit, think of McDonald disappearing from the world or--or France in a bikini!_ Alfred shut his eyes as he imagined the perverted Frenchmen wearing a skimpy bikini with flower-prints.

The horrible image helped him calm down significantly, but his relief soon went down the drain when he saw the leather costume again as the previous image of England immediately popped into his mind again. And he soon felt his jeans had gotten tight again.

"Damn it." He cursed under his breath.

"Damn what?"

Alfred turned around sharply, feeling his heart jumped right out of its socket. And when he did, he felt his eyes would fall out of its sockets.

England was standing in front of him, an irritated look on his face. But what made America gaped and speechless was the fact that Arthur was wearing a very skimpy French maid outfit. The outfit was short and sleeveless. He could see clearly that the back was opened, while the skirt only went around fifteen inches above the knees. It was black, with white laces and frills adoring every edges the outfit had; the skirt, the rather big bow tied up around England's neck down to the apron and went around his armpits to the back, and also the big ribbon on the back of his waist. There was laces and frills gracing vertically at the front of the chest with a burgundy-colored ribbon in the middle as the accent. Two pockets were sewn on the short skirt.

On Arthur's wrists and neck, three identical black bands were tied around it, also with frills gracing the edges. On the top of his head, he wore a frilly white maid bonnet with black ribbons was placed. And he wore a pair of long black leather boots that went up until just below his knees. The boots had a long line of thin black knots in zigzag pattern, and instead of thick even soles, it was ten-inches heels at the bottom. The way he looked in that outfit was… simply breath-taking.

America could do nothing but gape at his former mentor, wide-eyed with reddened face. But the Brit didn't seem the slightest fazed.

"So you found out, huh." He only said, hands in akimbo. Emerald eyes trailed on the leather whips and other stuff that lied on the carpeted floor. He sighed. "I know I'll be found out sooner or later, I hadn't expected you'll be the first though."

"…found out…?" Alfred mumbled the words, before finally finding his voice again. "Wait a minute, so--you--this--I--I mean…" He stuttered messily.

"Well, this is a new hobby of mine, you see." Arthur bent over to pick the whips, vibrator, and leather costume. Alfred gulped nervously when he caught a glimpse of his white inner thighs and a sneak peek of what was underneath his skirt.

England threw them onto the box, before turning around, walking towards the bed. "I've been bored lately. Nothing really happens these days. And when you get to my age, you'll do anything just to feel some excitement. Something to look forward to every day. Apparently, these kinds of things are not uncommon nowadays." He said as he sat on the bed, crossing his arms.

"B-but you… I thought you…" Alfred didn't know what to say, and it got kind of hard for him _not_ to see the Brit putting a knee on top of the other.

"Oh. It's nothing harmful." Arthur said, an amused smile appear on his lips when he realized how red Alfred's face was. "I just wear this kind of outfit every once in a while and see myself in the mirror. Well, I have to admit. I look _quite_ good in it. Don't you think?" He teasingly asked.

_Yes, you do_. Alfred clamped his mouth shut. He tried to hold in the painful feeling in his pants.

Arthur seemed to notice the way the American was fidgeting on the floor, his thighs kept rubbing against each other. He smiled. "So, you found the vibrator too." He said in a low, breathy voice that sent chills down Alfred's spine. "I got _lonely_ sometimes, so… I just had to use it, you know? Letting it be buried deep inside me, so I'll feel… relaxed."

The effect of Arthur's words immediately seeped into Alfred's mind and body. His breaths became heavy and short and raggedy while his head became hazy and his mind blurring. The painful sensation stung at him like a bee to his pants, rendering him weak with an intense desire he was not used to. He knew how to take care of it, but the sensation was driving him crazy. Arthur was driving him crazy. He knew he wanted to just go there and release his desire into the older blonde, but he didn't understand how and why he wanted to do it in the first place. He felt his back soaked in sweat and his heart beat loudly in his ears.

"You're awfully quiet, America." Arthur said as he stood up.

"Perhaps… you need my help with that?" Alfred's face sharply turned at Arthur, who was already in front of him again, smiling a devilish, seductive smile. His voice was heavy with temptation and seduction as he spoke.

"If you want me to take care of it for you… then you need to get up and sit on the bed."

His words were like hypnotizing him.

With the remaining energy and self-control he had, Alfred got up and staggered towards the bed, where he then proceeded dropping down his weigh onto the side of the bed, panting heavily. Arthur crouched down between Alfred's legs, the touch of his hand on the bulge of America's jeans sent jolts of electricity from within his insides. He let out an unrestrained moan when the Brit started stroking the still clothed rod.

Smiling, Arthur pulled down the zipper as well as the underwear, revealing an energetic organ already leaking out pre-cum. "My, how lovely." Alfred shuddered and yelped at the skin contact, Arthur's hand felt so cold against his angry-red member. "Are you this hard just from looking at me in this outfit? I don't know… that you have a thing for maids." He said as he stroked the straining rod ever so slowly.

"No… Y-your… damned leather… Ah!" Alfred struggled to say, a muffled moan escaped his lips.

"Oh, the whip and the leather outfit? They're new… I haven't try them out yet. So… you're hard at the thought of me wearing it?" Alfred flinched, his twitching organ looked like it was answering Arthur's question. Arthur chuckled. "I see you're very eager, I'm so happy that you desire me this much… Master."

Alfred held his breath.

Arthur smirked at him, blinking his eyes seductively. "Master, what would you like me to do? Do you want my hand? Or perhaps… my mouth?" He gave a teasing lick at the head.

America could not even tell how much he would like to throw England onto the bed and just _fuck_ him senseless. But he also wanted to know just what kind of sensation the hot and slippery cave would give him if it closed around his aching member. He gulped down nervously. "…m-mouth…" He said in whisper.

Arthur smiled. "As you wish, Master."

America almost screamed when England suddenly took his already burning organ into his mouth, feeling the warmth clamping down on him. Arthur closed his eyes as he bobbed his head, taking it deeper into his mouth, all the while moaning. "Mmmh, mmm." He purposely moaned out as the aching rod popped out of his mouth. And then he started licking it from the base, and then to the skin beneath the head. "Fuck," America breathlessly cursed when a thumb ran across the slit of his member, drops of semen dripping down the reddened flesh.

More restrained moans escaped his lips when Arthur started sucking on the balls of his rod, messaging them lightly with his fingers. "Ah! Gods… I!" Alfred yelped, his hands clutching at Arthur's short blonde tresses. Arthur's skillful tongue went up and took the rod inside his mouth again, sucking gently while licking it from the inside as well. Alfred gasped when he purposely grazed his teeth along the length, although he was careful not to hurt him.

Alfred was panting heavily and gasping and moaning, bending his back from the intense pleasure he felt rendering his knees weak. And then he felt a wave of something intense surging from inside him, his mind became hazed and blurry and he knew he was so close to completion. "Arthur! I'm gonna--" At that exact moment, he pulled the Brit's head backwards and he came hard, thick white liquid spurting out and splashing onto the British man's cheek and nose.

Alfred turned blue at what he had done.

"Oh my… God! S-sorry, Iggy! I-I didn't mean to--! T-tissue! Where's tissue!?" He flustered, looking for something he could use to wipe Arthur's face.

"It's fine. Calm down." Arthur said as he got on his knees, wiping Alfred's come with the back of his hand. Alfred turned blue to red to white at the sight of it.

"B-but…"

"It's fine Alfred, I'm going to take a shower too anyway." Arthur muttered as he turned on his back, walking towards the door.

Alfred had cleaned himself up with a handkerchief, glancing at the older blonde. "Arthur… you seem… used to it. Are-Are you gay?"

England stopped by the doorway, glancing over his shoulder. He smiled that devilish smile again.

"That's for you to find out."

And then he disappeared from Alfred's line of vision, leaving the younger blonde with his thoughts.

And that day Alfred F. Jones discovered his former brother's dirty little secret. And he also discovered...

"…I didn't know I was gay."

It was one discovery after another.

* * *

A/N: Well, for the time being, since I'm back to school again and I already have two multi-chaptered stories, I put this up as a one-shot. But I might continue this one-shot as a story later on when I have free time again. Thanks for the 12 reviews I got, it really made me happy. :D


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